It’s Teacher Appreciation Week, and as a homeschooling mom, I would love to take this opportunity to thank and honor a truly remarkable educator: Me.
The woman who confidently started the school year with a color-coded schedule, fresh pencils, and a vision. Who is now just hoping that everyone learns to read before they move out.
Let’s be real, I wear many hats.
Math teacher: Explaining long division with the same energy as someone diffusing a bomb. “If you just carry the one – NO, don’t cry.”
History Teacher: Passionately recounting historical events, I Googled five minutes earlier. “And that, children, is why we don’t throw tea into harbors, unless it’s herbal and overpriced.”
Science Teacher: Conducting experiments that are 60% learning and 40% me yelling, “Don’t touch that!”
Lunch Lady: Serving gourmet meals like whatever’s in the fridge with a side of “you’ll eat it and like it.”
Guidance Counselor: Helping my children navigate the emotional trauma of doing their schoolwork.
People often ask, “How do you do it all?” And the answer is simple, I don’t.
Some days truly are magical, we’re basking in the sunshine, watching chicks hatch, baking bread, and discussing the wonders of the world. Other days, I’m hiding in my closet, eating chocolate chips while they argue about who touched whose pencil.
Homeschooling is more than doing school at home; it’s about presence. It’s witnessing the light in their eyes once they finally get something after struggling for so long. It’s about the freedom to pivot when everyone is losing their minds. It’s about learning and exploring right beside two of my favorite humans. It’s about laughing way more than you expected, and realizing that education doesn’t have to look like a classroom to be meaningful.
Also, sometimes, it’s about lowering your standards enough to survive.
This Teacher Appreciation Week, I’ll be accepting lukewarm coffee, slightly less bickering, and maybe a full ten minutes where no one is yelling “Mom.”
To my fellow homeschool moms, you are doing holy, important, and wildly chaotic work. Seeds are being planted, memories made, and resilience (mostly yours) is being built. I salute you.
And to my students, who are legally required to appreciate me this week: you’re welcome for your education. Please stop asking me for snacks.
